Sometimes, as you live your life, you find yourself waiting, standing around or in the car/on the bus and you drink in your suroundings- sweet and tangy like a malt beverage you would never admit to having tried, much less enjoyed. And then you notice the surreal depth of sunset painted clourds, or the way a tall beige skyscraper washes living, dimensional things in siepia tones. You are striken with the beauty of the moment and think it’s like a painting. But in reality, a painting is like it.
December Reads
